


A Brief History

by Cosmicboredom



Category: 300 (Movies), Frank Herbert's Children of Dune (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Greece, Ancient Rome, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Blood Kink, Blood and Violence, Explicit Sexual Content, Gay Sex, Gladiators, M/M, Mild S&M, Sexual Violence, Slave Trade, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 08:40:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20079340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmicboredom/pseuds/Cosmicboredom
Summary: Leto was once the leader of a Legion, fighting on the sands of Persia as if the very hounds of hell rode with him. His command was revered, and his men considered him in the highest regard. His life was simple, fight, live, drink, fuck, fight again.Then his father disappeared from the capital, for unknown reasons. And Leto had to accept the throne as the last male heir. Running an empire is quite different from fighting on the frontlines. Leto learns this all too quickly for his liking.





	A Brief History

The roar of the crowd was deafening. Leto knew he was supposed to be watching this with fascination, cooing at the ugly, brutish display his nobles kept bringing before him.

It seemed every other day someone's family has suffered a huge loss, and the gore was beginning to bore him. He wanted to be on the frontlines of the battlefield instead of cooped up in a magnificent palace made of marble and soft cushions. His place had once been important, and bloody, and invigorating. Now, he experienced nothing more than utter boredom.

Even the barbaric Gladiatorial Events began to wear thin.

The crowd was suddenly silent, he realized he was supposed to give an assessment of the battle, declare the victor and all that. He scanned the field quickly, two men had fought viciously but one was ultimately beaten, as usual. He shifted his jewels and silks before giving a thumbs up. The crowd bubbled with shouts of triumph, and boos of indignation. He didn't care what they thought. The loser had lost, fair as the day was long. If they couldn't see it after having  _ actually _ watched, then they really didn't deserve all this entertainment.

The sounds of metal crushing bone could be heard over the din.

He frowned, if only his brother had lived.

He wanted to be the one in the pits, fighting to the death, only thinking about the next day, not having to worry about the millions of lives that entrusted him with an Empire. Fucking whenever he  _ could _ , instead of having every woman bow to his cock.

In short, he was bored. He did say that, didn't he?

  


Another day, another event.

Leto sighed. Could he feign sickness? No, his enemies both within and without the state would take great notice. His people would be in danger.

He smacked the hand reaching for his belly. The woman pulled back, pouting, but he didn't care. He never knew her name, he barely remembered bringing her to bed. She meant nothing, just as the wealth and power meant nothing.

"Better go get ready for the event today." He said, dismissing her with a twist of his wrist. She left without a fight.

He lay there for a whole other hour, wishing he could fall asleep and never awaken. It would be more peaceful than this.

  


The event started off strong. There were even a few wild cats thrown into the coliseum, and Leto had been very interested in the ferocity of these exotic animals. Not one man had been able to survive yet.

The crowd was finally completely silent, stunned by the absolute bloodbath they'd been witness to. He actually felt very smug about this; not a single audience member could handle full-scale war. He was at the edge of his seat when they let the next man in.

How would he die? Face eaten? Throat bitten out? Pounced upon from behind? He had no idea what was going to happen next, but he was certain the cats would win.

The man walked out to the center of the arena, a Spartan helmet with the red plume adorned his head. Leto waited for the great cats to notice their new prey, and when they did, the crowd would not raise one voice. They all watched their Emperor for a social cue.

Which he ignored in favor of the battle.

The cats may have been lithe and sly, but the new opponent looked like Mars incarnate in comparison. Leto felt his blood roil while he watched the man quickly, efficiently, and completely brutalize the wild animals. It was magnificent!

He would behead anyone whom did not at least enjoy  _ that. _

The crowd slowly filled with clapping, perturbed by their Emperor's bloodlust, and still managing to appreciate a good Gladiator. Leto's thumbs down ended the whole spectacle, he could not risk ruining the most fun he'd had in a very long time. Anything less was to spit in the face of the Gods.

  


Two weeks later, he had not been able to forget it. It had been such an alluring spectacle, his cock had been constantly hard since the Gladiator dispatched those feral beasts with ease. The women loved it.

Life had easily become even more boorish since the Event. He found himself longing for the sand and blood more often, awakening sweaty from his vivid and violent dreams, constantly looking out the windows of his palace at odd moments. Paperwork and treaties were so  _ arbitrary _ in comparison. He could be fighting those big cats in their homeland, he could be fucking the Gladiator for all his worth, he could be sleeping under the stars in open, brisk air.

He could be breathing in the very life that had been stolen from him in the musky, smoke-filled halls. That week made him truly realize how alone in this wide Empire he had become.

He just didn't feel the blood in his veins anymore.

  


The sun was hot on his neck as he strode into the coliseum of Rome, the sand puffed up around him with every step. His longing brought him here. To feel the grittiness of the sand, to see his own throne through another's eyes, a longing that hadn't gone away in days. He missed the blood and guts, the way the sand packed together, moist under a man's boot. He missed the roar of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

He had to see what it was like. He wanted to see  _ him. _

Leto quickly slid over the sand; he'd fought on the sand, breathed the desert like air. He knew the arid dirt and he was welcomed.

He made his way into the darkness of the slave quarters, slipping between the shadows like a wraith of mist.

The slaves didn't notice him, the guards aided his movement as they couldn't disobey if they wanted to keep their heads on their shoulders. He found the cell he was aiming for rather swiftly. And the man inside was everything he thought a man  _ could  _ be in a hellhole like this.

Crudely cropped blonde hair gleamed in the sunlight oozing through the small cell window above, but the prominent brow and jaw made the man look far more primitive in the shadows. Leto had never really seen a barbarian from Germania, his expertise lay in caramel-colored devil soldiers and pompous Arabian sultans. A man who's very being lives and breathes the closed-in forest was a rare phenomenon.

The man stared at him with hard green eyes, and Leto wanted to protect his throat. Even though the iron bars stood between them.

"You are the Emperor." The man uttered, and despite the obvious accent, his Latin was flawless. No hint of lilting words or hard consonants to embargo the ear from understanding.

"You are the barbarian." Leto responded, bowing his head in respect.

A wide, maniacal smile cracked through the hard surface of the man's face, revealing perfect, shining, predatory teeth. It would have unnerved anyone, but Leto was not  _ just anyone. _

"Funny one. I like you."

Leto felt his lips tug at the corners, but he was an emperor, and he would not smile before the bottom of the pyramid, so to speak.

"You are the one who single-handedly defeated the Great Cats of Asia?" He asked. The man studied him for a very long minute. The air was still with the tension.

"If I am?"

Leto felt his body sag, well, not  _ all  _ of him. There was still some tension to behold. "You should be more concerned with whether you are not." He said, drawing his power around him like a physical barrier, or a rather heavy cloak.

The barbarian's smile grew, and grew. Until it no longer resembled a purely human expression. Leto suppressed the shivers wracking his body from the unnatural attention. "What do you want with me?" The man asked, his tone belied his disinterest.

"I want you to spar with me." Leto said seriously. "You seem to be one of a select few who are capable with a sword."

The man surveyed him before shaking his head. "You are small. I will hurt you, you will execute me. I am not stupid,  _ Highness." _

"Do not underestimate me so soon, friend." Leto smirked, he knew his height was a disadvantage, but he also knew how to work around it. The man narrowed his eyes, and then unfolded himself from his crouch on the small cot in the corner of the cell. He stood tall, his hair touching the low ceiling of his quarters, towering a full forearm higher than Leto. Heat pooled low in the Emperor's belly, and high in his throat. He swallowed the fire down so he could speak, but it kept crawling up his tongue.

"Scrawny, slim. You look more like a woman." The barbarian's voice was low.

"You don't see many Roman women then." Leto argued. "I may not be big, you lumbering giant, but I do not lack skill."

Another evil-looking grin. "Aye. You are fierce."

Leto pulled at his collar, he couldn't breathe. His knees were weak. The man could kill him with one hand, and here they were, conversing as if they met every day in the market. It was… titillating.

"Would you have an audience?" The man wondered, his face hard suddenly, as if the idea were some sort of slight. "Kill me in front of your adoring public? Bathe in my blood for all to see?"

The image was strangely erotic. But Leto had other plans.

He smiled at the man, if he wanted mind games, Leto would play for a while. He confidently stepped up to the bars, he could reach out and touch the dirt and sweat on the barbarian's skin. He met the German's eye, biting his lip to keep himself on track, he leaned in as if he wanted a kiss. "I prefer a more private scuffle. Where no one could hear your screams." He hissed.

The man wrapped his fist in Leto's collar, but didn't pull him, just held him in place. They teetered on that dangerous edge. If the barbarian attacked Leto now, he would be slaughtered as a spectacle for his mourning masses. Leto had to keep his breathing slow, he wasn't scared or threatened. He felt more alive than ever. And his body wanted to die.

"What would I get in return, Roman?" The barbarian growled, his fingers flexing like they wanted to throttle the throat of the Roman Empire. "Keep in mind, I don't like tricks."

Leto struggled with his arousal, forcing his mind to keep control. "Whatever you wish."

"Freedom." The man said immediately, releasing his collar with force.

Leto blinked, stunned. He half-expected the man to want the crown. He would have given it anyway, if he could just relieve the  _ itch, _ he would do anything. "You shall have it."

"Uncage me then. We can do this now."

Again, Leto felt his heart stop. As prepared as he was for this, he suddenly felt insecure. He hadn't expected the man to agree so soon, he had planned on a second trip to the coliseum.

"You are unready."

"I am not." Leto hissed.

"You expected me to say no?"

"I did. You are not what I expected you would be." Leto admitted.

"You are not what  _ I _ expected either." The man whispered. "Trust is earned, Roman. I am Stelios of Sparta."

The hand thrust towards him once held a sword, Leto was afraid to touch him, lest he disappear forever.

"I am Leto, with far too many additional names." He laughed and grasped the Spartan's too large hand, gently. No point in showing all of his cards right away, the man-  _ Stelios, _ his mind supplied unhelpfully- already expected him to be fragile. He could exploit that.

"Leto is a woman's name." Stelios smirked. "In Sparta, the women pray to her for guidance over younglings."

"Latona, you mean. Yes," Leto nodded, licking his bottom lip out of nerves. "It's a family name."

"Leto, let me out of this cell, and I'll do whatever you want. As long as I never come back  _ here." _ Stelios growled. "Food, lodging, and hot water. That's all I ask."

"A done deal, Stelios." Leto nodded. He looked over his shoulder, the guard stood just out of earshot, but a quick wave made everything too easy. The guard seemed to already know what Leto wanted, and the door to the cell opened. Then the only thing standing between Stelios and complete freedom was the word of a man.

  


_ This. _

This was what he wanted.

Heart pounding, breath-stealing, dirty, sweaty, exhausting.

These are the things he missed. The feelings he had been devoid of for many moons. And the man providing it for him was just fucking beautiful.

The blades had not yet tasted blood, and  _ that _ gave him more exhilaration, more  _ feelings _ to unravel and savor. Stelios was a master of his craft, and each close encounter showed him just how  _ well-trained _ the Spartan culture was. He considered it a miracle at all that these people became slaves.

Leto was clearly outmatched for once, but instead of feeling the fear of his mortality, his arousal grew until it clouded his mind.

"Stop." He panted, but not loud enough. Stelios' powerful legs swept away his footing, and he landed on his back hard. The air rushed out of him and a weight crushed what remained. He looked up through the stars in his eyes, and Stelios had his blade pressed gently against the Emperor's neck. He gasped under the pain, and wriggled, trying to squirm away. Stelios liked the fight.

"Oh, no, no, no. I won, you know the rules, Leto." Stelios' maniacal grin set the tone for the next hour, Leto prepared himself for the absolute ache in his gut to expand and consume him. Stelios had made certain to express his delight in Leto's carelessness, encouraged it even.

He cleared his throat and felt the hard iron press into his skin. "One for the mistake, and one for the loss." He said in agreement.

Stelios' gentle fingers on his face belied the game, swiping away the sand gathering at his temple. "Yes, my lord."

The blade moved, gently grazing the skin as it travelled from Leto's clavicle to his navel.

"Nothing fatal." Stelios said aloud to remind them both. They were warriors, they needed the boundaries to keep them from becoming simple-brained animals.

Leto nodded as the blade skittered up the inside of his right arm, then his left. He lay completely still during this perusal, one wrong move and it would be over too soon. And one of them would be in the medic's building.

Slowly, Stelios chose his spot, the first was supposed to be light, barely enough to draw blood. Leto would pick the ribs, but Stelios had a mind of his own.

He didn't feel it at first, only after the air met the open wound, and he let out a hiss. Stelios had chosen to nick his side,  _ where all his Roman fat was held,  _ as the Spartan would say. It wasn't long but it stung with every breath and every twist of his hips.

"Stay still, Leto." Stelios grunted, and Leto forced himself to stop moving. The second slice was deeper, and Stelios always chose a spot just above his nipple, there was even a scar forming to tell the Spartan  _ exactly  _ where it was supposed to be.

Leto paid it no mind when the blood beaded upon his chest.

He was too focused on the heaviness laying on his belly, hot and hard, and Leto honestly couldn't have wanted it more. "Stelios." He warned, bucking his hips up and then trying to crawl away again. His nails dug into the Spartan's thighs under the weight of the hard, storm-like gaze of his partner and lover. The heavy cock on his belly twitched in response to his voice.

"Are you satisfied, Emperor? Has your bloodlust subsided?" Stelios asked, and it was a sound question. Was Leto ready to take the manhandling without question?

If he said no, Stelios would flip him over and take him against the sand, with no remorse and no warning. If he says yes, he was looking down a rather unknown and dark tunnel. Emotions played between them in unexpected and sometimes horrible ways.

"And if I think your mother was a whore for Athenian pigs?" He whispered with a wicked smirk. No, he wasn't done.

Stelios growled, and as Leto predicted, he was stripped of the light clothing covering his legs. "Your mother bent her back for anyone," the Spartan grunted. "But she never opened her legs for a  _ slave _ . Not like you."

Leto grinned, none of this was true, but it was part of the game. When he was bared to the Gods, Stelios pushed his legs open, and crouched between them like an Adonis from another world. Leto's body was aching with anticipation, waiting for the moment he would be forced onto his belly, but it never came. Stelios had something else planned, and the fun of it seemed to be to watch Leto's reaction.

"What are you doing?" He asked, breathless. It was quite clear what Stelios was doing currently, with his sword hand inside his own pants. Leto licked his lips. He wondered what the Spartan had in mind.

"You never lay on your back. I want to see your face." Stelios hissed between gritted teeth, and Leto felt his insides squirm in a way that made him both excited and nervous. "I want to see your eyes when you take my cock in your pretty hole."

Leto felt the breath rush out of him again, he never felt confident enough to meet any of his lovers' eyes, and Stelios was  _ asking _ him to give that. It wasn't a demand, far from it. Stelios would have taken it already if he wasn't cogniscient enough to know that it made him uncomfortable. Apparently, one month was enough time for two lovers to know quite a lot about the other.

He sighed, then gasped, he couldn't control his breathing. Let alone speak. He nodded before he lost the courage to answer at all. Stelios carefully leaned in for a kiss.

And Leto's blood was on fire. Every sense was enhanced, his prick strained hard against the Spartan's thigh, leaking ever so slightly in the wake of his nerves. Their lips met and it took everything in him not to come on the spot. Stelios' eyes swallowed every reaction, even the tears at the corners of his eyes.

"Fucking do it." He whispered, trembling at every touch. Stelios obeyed, hooking Leto's legs around his waist and lining the thickness of his cock against the curve of Leto's body. Leto held on for dear life, his thighs tight around the Spartan's thin waist, as they slid together easily. Leto couldn't hold back the noise in his throat at the sight of Stelios' cock bulging out of his lower abdomen. And then when Stelios ran his thumb over the bump, he couldn't focus.

"Gorgeous." The Spartan mumbled, almost to himself. And Leto couldn't help the blush rising in his cheeks. "Fucking magnificient." He punctuated each word with a small thrust, and the sand molded around them from the combined weight. Leto kept his eyes open, meeting the storms in Stelios' and hoping for all his might that Stelios found the thing he wanted. 

Stelios sat up, taking Leto's body with him, and those large hands held him in place while he took the full force of the Spartan strength so sung about in legends and poems.

"Look at me, Leto." Stelios reminded him, and his eyes shot open. "Tell me how it feels."

"Fuck you." Leto hissed, mesmerized by the way Stelios' stomach muscles clenched and released with each thrust. The Spartan's chuckle reverberated into his spine and the pace changed, to an unbearably slow, harsh pattern. Stelios moved his hand to just above Leto's groin, pressing into the swathe of skin there, touching his own cock through Leto's belly. Leto let out a loud cry at the feeling, his hands digging like claws into the sand below him.

"Fuck!" He whined, looking down between them at the hand. "Stelios," he broke off and let his head fall back.

"Yes, my lord?" Was whispered into his ear, and his body shifted. Lips pressed against his chest, tongue snaked out to taste his sweat, and Leto couldn't hold it anymore.

"I'm- _unh!_ I'm so- _fucking_ _close!"_

Stelios picked up the pace, his hands left Leto to fall on the Spartan's cock. One crushed his left wrist and pinned it above his head, the other pushed the hair from his eyes, gripping the base hairs and holding him against the ground. Blood trickled up towards his shoulder at this angle, striking red against pale skin accented with a straining nipple.

"Come for me, Leto." Stelios growled, and the words went straight to the base of his spine, heating him up from the inside. He fought a bit, moving his hips and grinding against Stelios for the extra friction,  _ his body was not his own. _

His voice climbed in volume as he rode the sand, and the Spartan. His vision clouded with blackness and his body suddenly went rigid, before collapsing in exhaustion. Stelios pounded into him the whole time, and he reawoke from his short coma with a wet belly and a pulsing cock inside him. His insides felt wet, as usual, but this was the first time he felt  _ so  _ content with it. It was well-earned, and it felt more rewarding than ever before.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" He asked, his body refused to respond to commands, so he felt the intense need to fill the silence.

"Yes." The Spartan's voice rumbled between their skin, and Leto felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise.

The silence that fell was heavy, and Leto huffed so as not to suffocate.

"And what was it?" He followed up. His curiosity had never been higher.

The Spartan hummed. "Does it matter now?"

"Well, no." Leto mumbled, blushing deeply, he never knew there were things they didn't tell each other.

"It's rather stupid, Leto. Just let it go." Stelios muttered, shaking his head as he let Leto up, and gently pulled out. Leto felt the loss deep in his chest more than anything else.

What was this that was happening? Was this the moment they were always avoiding? The feeling that they both skirted around?

"Stelios?" He asked, watching the man gather the clothes they'd shed. His only answer was a grunt, as he expected during these moments. "Do you wish to go back to Greece?"

"No." Stelios answered too easily.

"Do you wish to leave here?" Leto prodded.

"Are you trying to send me away?" Stelios asked, his eyes piercing Leto to the ground.

"No." He exhaled, and Stelios turned away again.

"Where would I go?" The Spartan asked as if it were really that simple.

"Anywhere you wanted. Away from the Empire."

Stelios stopped shaking out their clothes, the sand was uncomfortable when constantly rubbing the skin. "Leto, there are other Empires, other kings, other slave hellholes. Why give up what I have for the unknown?"

"Freedom, fresh air. Not being a slave." Leto answered, he sat up, because he couldn't help the slight breaking of his heart at the thought of the Spartan leaving.

"What are you asking me, Leto?"

He forced the lump in his throat to dissolve before speaking, and it brought slight tears to his eyes. "I can let you go, if that is what you want. You can live out your days wherever you wish, with a king's ransom even. Never bowing to any man, least of all me. I can give that to you."

"Stand up, Leto." Stelios' voice was hard, and he knew that the Spartan would take the offer. It didn't surprise him, the man had once been a warrior of a tribe that thought nothing of gold and wealth. Of course he would want to return home.

Still, Leto did as he was asked, standing before the man he'd never been able to let go of, until now.

"Leto, if I wanted to leave, I could have slit your throat as you slept beside me at night." Stelios began, and Leto felt the fear deep inside him. "If I wanted to leave, I would have said so, I've had plenty of opportunities."

"Do you?" Leto laughed. "Remember? Kill me and the guards are on you before my body grows cold. I've made no indication that you  _ can _ leave. What choice do you really have?"

"Would you have killed me if I left?"

"No! That's insane."

"That is my point. Plenty of opportunities." Stelios chuckled and smiled, and Leto felt more confused than happy. "I think what you wanted to ask me has nothing to do with what you  _ did  _ ask. But I hope the answer is still plain."

Leto shook his head, "Nothing is ever plain with you, Spartan."

Stelios merely smirked at him. Leto huffed.

"Clean this up then." He said, and Stelios met his eyes before they parted ways.

  


Leto was no longer the owner of his heart. Stelios had effectively stolen it from him over months, and even in the wee hours of the night, it was given back to him so he could feel what he needed to, before it was taken away again. 

He felt lost in the currents of the Mediterranean when he wasn't near the Spartan, his work began to suffer for it.

He came close to saying it, all the time. In the middle of breakfast, when Stelios would swipe away berry juice from the corner of his mouth. During a council session, when Stelios silenced the old, doddering men who knew little of warfare and resources. Or even in bed, when Stelios would reach out to touch him, just touch, because they were both afraid the dream would disappear and they would be alone again. Stelios never said it, never had to. Everything he did proved it.

But Leto felt like it was necessary, that it wasn't real until they said it. He never found the right moment, even though many were presented to him.

Was he a coward? No. He would never back down from the Spartan, regardless. Was he ready to live his life forever like this? Yes. He would take it all again in a heartbeat, the pain, the pleasure, the happiness, the heartbreak. He would never stray from this path now he knew what lay down it.

Stelios must know this.

  


"Leto, what will you do with me when you are done with this?" Stelios asked him one day, and Leto was so stunned he couldn't do anything more than stare. Stelios never talked about the future, perhaps this was why.

"What do you mean?" Leto questioned anyway. Stelios looked frustrated with his query.

"You know. If you want me to say it aloud, then just say so." Stelios sniped, his face contorted in a way that Leto couldn't fully recognize.

"I don't think I understand Stelios." He said gently, and Stelios snarled at him.

"You're not that stupid," the Spartan growled. "Are you going to kill me or let me go?"

Leto choked on the air. He'd asked, had he not? Whether Stelios wanted to stay. The answer then should be what it is now, but he couldn't speak over the sheer shock he was experiencing.

"Let me rephrase, Leto." Stelios grumbled, grouchy for one reason or another. "When this arrangement we have is over, what are you going to do with me? I am nothing more than a slave in this city. I would like to know what will be done with my self when you cease you're fascination."

Leto continued to stare at him, coughing still from his fit.

"I ask only because I think it is right for me to know what my future holds." Stelios muttered.

He sucked in a breath, "I wouldn't like to get rid of you at all."

"But you will." Stelios insisted.

"I don't think I will, Stelios."

"How can you be so sure?"

Leto almost let it slip, he chalked it up to one of those moments where his emotions overrode his logic. "Need I give you a list? Or would it suffice to know that I have one?"

"Leto, I am serious." Stelios said, and this time Leto swore he could hear the pain in the Spartan's voice. "What will become of me?"

Leto frowned, how could he deny the man the knowledge any longer? "I want to keep you. But much more than that, Stelios." He breathed. The chambers echoed his words easily enough, and he gave the Spartan a sad smile. "I would see you free of all debt, and still by my side, for no reason other than that you love me. If that were the case. But when you ask to leave, you are free with no other obligations, and you answer to no one but yourself."

Stelios nodded as if this were a good enough answer, and they returned to the pregnant silence that such questions often invoked.

  


Leto was making his biweekly routine through the market when he saw what he'd been searching for since the night Stelios had asked about his future. He didn't expect something of it's value to be so close to home, but the Gods seemed to be on his side for once.

He purchased the item as quickly as possible, before  _ anyone _ else could even see it. The merchant told him it belonged to the once great king Leonidas, though he really doubted the authenticity of the claim. It was Spartan, for sure, and that was all that mattered to him.

When he returned to the palace, Stelios was awaiting him for lunch before their sparring match. He didn't have time to present it the way he wanted to, Stelios was already interested in the bundle tucked under his arm.

"Stelios, I have found what I needed." He announced, throwing his cloak over one of the many lounges. "This is the best I've been able to find, but I hope it still makes you happy."

"What is it?" Stelios said suspiciously.

Leto carefully unwrapped the parcel, the blood red plume had undergone little damage, but he could fix it. "To you, my servant, I give thee freedom from thy chains." He recited, breathless. His own nerves were getting the better of him. "Of your own will, I bid thee welcome to Rome, new citizen." He passed the helmet into Stelios' shaking hands. The bronze was tarnished, and there was a gash in the eye, but he could fix that too.

"Why are you giving me this?" Stelios asked.

Leto felt his excitement dampen. "Because I want you to be a free man, Stelios. Tradition says I must find a relic of your heritage before granting you walking rights."

Stelios looked up at him like he might faint. Leto realized his greatest mistake right then.

"You don't have to leave, I'm not sending you away." He murmured, feeling suddenly unhappy. "I want you to stay."

Stelios said nothing, and Leto felt his body sag. What had he done wrong?

Stelios stood from the chair at the long table, carefully putting the helm on the table as if it would break. "Leto,"

"Yes?" He breathed. Stelios closed in, pushing his rump into the edge of the table, the Spartan shut off his escape with an arm on either side of him.

"Do you know what I am going to do with this freedom?" Stelios whispered in his ear. He trembled with the effect, and shook his head.

Stelios didn't answer his own question, instead he stepped back and pushed Leto onto his knees. And Leto's mouth was too full for him to care about the answer.

  


Leto awoke the next morning to Stelios' lips at his shoulder, and that familiar friction inside him. He gave a small cry when Stelios drew his leg back over the Spartan's thighs and continued to thrust into him. He spilled his seed almost immediately from the rush of feeling, but Stelios kept going, molding himself against Leto's back.

It should've felt wrong to be taken without consent, but Stelios was a free man, and Leto would've given in anyway. The whole experience was heightened by Stelios' boldness, and Leto was caught in the heady wind of it.

Stelios fucked him through many orgasms, he'd lost count. It was blissfully endless, as if Stelios had wanted to do this but was never allowed to, the Spartan was panting hard, and trembling.

Leto let him take that gratification, and it seemed like hours before Stelios rolled onto his back. Soon they were both asleep again, with Leto's head cradled by Stelios' arm. Leto couldn't stop smiling even as he dropped into a deep sleep.

On his second attempt to wake up, Stelios had beaten him to it again, but was tracing patterns into his skin this time. It was such a contrast that Leto felt his cock fill before he could control it.

"Stelios."

"It won't happen again, my lord."

Leto cracked a smile. "No, no. Last night was brilliant, don't stop what you're doing."

"Then what is it?"

"Will you stay?"

"I told you, Leto, there is no where I'd want to be." Stelios kissed his shoulder. "Now I have a question for you."

"Mmm? It better not be depressing."

"How long is it going to take you to get up? The councilmen are rather peeved that you have not arisen for the meeting yet."

Leto sighed. "You lied."

Stelios chuckled. "The day is the same, Emperor. And you are a very busy man."

  


**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, feel free to check out my other works. For those of you waiting for new chapters on my other stuff, I apologize for delaying.


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